You Must Be Blind
by blommabelle
Summary: Amelia has had enough, and Arthur is going to know exactly what her problem is. Human AU, some angsty England/fem!America with some Japan/fem!America and FrUK. Human names used. Rated M for Amelia's potty mouth and some implied sexual activities that occurred.


Arthur knew he had done something terribly, horribly awful to Amelia when she refused to say anything once he approached her locker. The girl was quietly humming to herself, clad in a fresh cheerleading uniform to prepare for the football game that night. She seemed perfectly at ease until Arthur greeted her. Suddenly, her movements became more forceful and angry and her expression became that of cool indifference with just a drop of anger.

_Uh oh_. Arthur had rarely been on the receiving end of Amelia's outbursts, but he had been present for enough of them to know that he didn't want to be. Swallowing nervously, he hoped that it was all in his imagination.

"Crazy test in maths, huh?" he ventured, hoping that by staying on neutral territory he would be less likely to incur her wrath. "I studied forever last night and got nowhere."

Amelia slammed her locker shut and turned, her dark blue eyes narrowed at him. She said nothing.

_Oh, shit. I'm REALLY in for it._ Still, he kept that nervous smile on his face, hoping to God and the universe and everyone that she would at least have the decency to be civil.

"I guess," she finally replied, her words icy. Crossing her arms over her chest, Amelia's gaze only intensified until Arthur was sure he was going to explode. "How's Francis?"

At the mention of his boyfriend, Arthur sighed a little, his shoulders still tense. "He's… fine. Busy, like always."

"Yeah. Busy fucking anything that breathes," Amelia snapped, causing Arthur to flinch. He knew it was true. Francis was the farthest thing from a loyal boyfriend to ever exist. "Seriously, Artie. When are you going to tell him enough is enough?"

Arthur shifted, wondering where this was going. "Mia, you know I love him."

Amelia let out a short, angry laugh and shook her head, even more furious than before. "Of fucking course you are. Why the fuck wouldn't you be?"

She was swearing a lot. That wasn't good. Usually that kind of language followed with a few well-placed punches. Despite this obvious warning to stay silent, Arthur felt himself ruffle a bit at her callous attitude toward Francis, despite the fact that she knew perfectly well that he was _not_ a good boyfriend to Arthur.

"Come on, Mia," he pleaded. "It's fine, you know I can handle it."

"Actually, you can't," she snapped, leaning in a little close. Arthur swallowed but didn't move, fearful of showing any weakness in light of the situation. "You can't handle it without _me_. _Me_, Amelia Fucking Jones, the shoulder to cry on, the girl you can fuck whenever you catch Francis humping some horny dipshit in a dark alley."

Flinching again, mostly because she was right, Arthur realized exactly what was going on. He had wondered when Amelia would finally say enough was enough. He hadn't thought she would be so brutal about it, though.

_Then you're an idiot_, he chastised himself. _She's been your best friend for years. _

The worst part was that Arthur _had_ wronged Amelia so severely he wasn't even sure how he could sleep at night. It had all begun the second time Arthur had caught Francis cheating. He found himself calling Amelia in the middle of the night, asking to come over. Being the good person she was, Amelia dropped everything and agreed.

He had told himself it was a moment of weakness, that was all. He was fragile and he happened to know Amelia was crazy about him. When he kissed her, she didn't fight it, and when he began to discard their clothes, she only helped. And when all was said and done, he realized just how bad things were-he had slept with his best and oldest friend just to get back at his two-timing boyfriend.

Arthur wished he loved Amelia like that, he really did. Life would be easier. She would make a good, if not loud and boyish, girlfriend. But…

He just couldn't. Amelia was like a sister-except when he was emotionally fragile, apparently.

He decided to be as adult and mature as possible with her. They sat down and talked it out, both of them agreeing it was a mistake, though it was clearly breaking Amelia's heart to do so. Even still, the next day, she was back to being happy, energetic and somewhat obnoxious Amelia, flirting copiously with the male population of the school and talking too loudly in the hallways about superheroes, eating like a linebacker at lunch and laughing whenever someone said something she found funny.

At first, things were fine, at least, that's what Arthur thought. But then he caught Francis cheating again and found himself once more in Amelia's room, in Amelia's arms, on Amelia's bed. And they fell back into it, shedding clothes and inhibitions. And once more Arthur realized his mistake and Amelia looked hurt and broken again.

Despite this, he kept doing it. He exploited her feelings, he knew that. And now it looked like Amelia had had enough and was about to tear him a new one.

"I am _so_ done with this," she snarled, turning to walk down the hallway, her backpack slung over one shoulder. Arthur sighed and walked after her, his stomach churning. Once she realized he was following her, she stopped beside her bright blue SUV and narrowed her eyes at him. "_What_? What could you _possibly_ want to say to me? Or did you catch Francis feeling someone up and were hoping for a quickie in the backseat of my car?"

Arthur felt his face grow red and he ran his hands through his hair, distressed. "Look, Mia, I didn't mean for this to happen, really. Please, don't push me away."

Amelia scoffed at him. "You know what, Artie? You're a shitty friend. I thought that maybe one day you would realize that even though you were being such a shithead, using me like that, you would realize I had never left your side. That I accepted you. But turns out all you wanted to do was whore me out whenever you wanted to get back at Pépé le Pew."

"Mia…"

"But that was a waste of time and I was a fucking moron." She opened her door and glared at him before climbing inside. Rolling down her window, she shot him a look and scathingly said, "Don't bother apologizing again. Thanks to some self-actualization lately, I've realized I deserve better and I feel nothing for you. Goodbye, Artie. Have a nice life."

With that, she rolled up the window and drove off, leaving Arthur standing there, flabbergasted.

At first, he thought she was being dramatic. He gave her her space, hoping that with time she would change her mind and finally agree to be friends again. He missed her a lot. But as the days wore on, it became more and more apparent that Amelia had been serious-she had no interest in rekindling their friendship, and when she looked at him, it was as if she was looking at a stranger.

The worst was when Francis told him one day that Amelia was dating some quiet, artsy Asian guy named Kiku who happened to be in one of his literature classes. Arthur actually liked Kiku-he was nice and tended to mind his own business. But he felt a twist in his stomach whenever he saw Amelia and Kiku walking down the hall together, hand-in-hand, or worse, when Amelia would laugh at something Kiku would say and then would lean over and kiss him. She looked happier than he'd seen her in a long time.

Arthur, however, wasn't doing so well. As Amelia had predicted, Francis cheated on him numerous times, and now Arthur had no outlet for his sadness. He thought about calling Amelia, or even showing up on her doorstep to see what she'd do, but he lost his nerve every time he decided to go for it.

Eventually, he learned to accept that he had fucked up big time with someone he cared about so much. Soon, her disregard for his presence was so normal that it was hard to think of a time when they had been close despite the fact that they had been friends for years. Arthur grew numb to it and to most everything.

And one day, something happened. It was nearly a year later, yeah, but it was _something_.

Arthur had been walking down the busy halls when someone's books spilled from an opened locker. Instinctively, he reached down and picked them up, turning to hand them to their owner, and froze, his green eyes widening.

Of course, they belonged to Amelia.

After a brief awkward silence, Amelia took the books and nodded. "Thanks. That was, uh… embarrassing."

Without any thought, Arthur replied, "Your locker's always been messy."

They both blinked a little and shifted, unsure of what to say after so much chilly silence. Finally, Amelia offered him a tiny smile. Arthur didn't see it at first, his gaze focused on the plethora of pictures she had taped inside her locker door, most of them of her and Kiku embracing and kissing, while some featured her and her friends, Minna and Maddie, all smiling and posing.

And then he spied one that made his head spin. The sensation wasn't helped when he finally looked at Amelia and saw her tiny smile.

The picture was of the two of them, years ago, before Francis and Kiku and complications and hurt feelings. They had been young, and Amelia had actually been shorter than him. They had been at the beach that day and both of them lay on the sand, faces close together, grinning at the camera and squinting against the sunlight that hit them directly in their eyes. They looked happy and relaxed and Arthur wished he could go back and fix things. He had forgotten how much he missed her.

"I guess so," she was saying, tucking a stray ringlet behind her ear. She glanced down the hall and spied Kiku heading over. "Uh… I've got to go, but… see you around?"

Arthur felt his heart stop for a second before he replied. "Yeah. See you around."

Writing angsty stuff is so much fun. Why is it so fun to torture characters? Is it because they can't fight back?

As a side note, 'Minna' is a nickname for 'Vilhelmina', who is my gender-bent Lithuania. Maddie is fem!Canada in my book, and in this story, they are friends. So there.


End file.
